Beckoning the King
by Here Lies the Abyss
Summary: Beckett is on a planestraveling adventure when he encounters a hulking man who calls himself a king - King Darius. Thanks to Beckett's insatiable curiosity, their encounter quickly escalates...


A thick, cold winter night had set in around the small tavern on the border of the Frejlord. A cloak of snow sat on the roof, but it hardly served to damper the dancing lights visible through the windows. The soft strains of cheerful fiddle music leaked underneath the glass panes, but there was no one who dared to be out in the bitter cold long enough to hear it.

Beckett stood quietly in the corner of the tavern, his slender fingers wrapped around a mug of ale. He was not well suited to the cold - no, he was far more accustomed to the temperate climes of Paris, or at least temperate in comparison to where he was now. He'd found himself in Runeterra following a botched experiment, and although he had been aware of alternate dimensions, he had no idea that he'd ever have to visit one himself.

The aged vampire, however, was not one to waste such an opportunity. He had already spent several weeks exploring the region, and at last had come to visit the Frejlord, where apparently a civil war of sorts was taking place. Of course, he wasn't about to interfere in their politics, but he wanted to understand more of what was going on.

He was disturbed from his thoughts by the sound of plodding footsteps approaching him. He glanced up from under his hat to see a broad-shouldered, immensely built man hovering over hm. "Twisted?" the man grunted, his dark eyes narrowed almost to slits. Beckett blinked. Was he being insulted?

"I beg your pardon?" the vampire replied cooly.

"Bah. You're not him. That bastard can hardly speak proper Common," the man snorted in reply, but he didn't take his gaze off of Beckett.

"Perhaps he didn't have the benefits of education that you and I had, mmm? Do you care to introduce yourself?" Beckett raised an eyebrow. This man, clad in a dark cloak and a red tunic, hardly intimidated him.

"Hmph. I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell my name to some nobody like you. I've never seen your face on the Fields." Shifting to stand beside Beckett, the man let out a heavy sigh. "I am Darius."

Darius? He'd heard the name before. The man was said to be a feared warrior. Beckett could see why. "How nice for a nobody like me to be able to make your acquaintance then, sir," the vampire purred in response.

Darius stiffened a little. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not. I was just commenting -"

"You'd better not be working for that damn card shark. He cheated my brother out of a lot of coin the other day, and I'm damn well angry about it. Are you sure you don't know him?"

Beckett was growing a little annoyed. Even if this man was a powerful warrior, that didn't mean he had the authority to boss everyone around. "If your brother's fool enough to gamble with the famed Monsieur Fate, then he deserves whatever happened to him." The vampire lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

He immediately regretted the decision. A hand grabbed him by his collar, hauling him down into the dark hallway as easily as if he were a light quilt. True, he was not anywhere near as heavily built as this man, but he had some decent amount of lean muscle on him. Clearly, though, that was no matter for Darius.

It was then that Beckett caught the strong scent of alcohol on the man's breath, his chest rising and falling in ragged movements that suggested he was far from being sober. Obviously he'd angered the wrong man at the wrong time. If the warrior attempted to beat him up, though, Beckett had no small amount of tricks up his sleeve to escape with. Still, he wanted to see what would happen.

The heavily built warrior kicked open one of the tavern room doors, slamming it shut behind him. It was a tiny room that was cramped, considering Darius' height. The man let go of Beckett, who stumbled to the side, eyeing him warily.

The sound of metal sliding from a sheath filled the air as Darius pulled out a knife. Beckett took a step back, watching silently as the taller man grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he had a chance to react much more. "You going to kill me?" the vampire asked calmly.

"I wouldn't waste effort on someone like you," Darius hissed in reply, the smell of sweet wine washing over Beckett's face. A moment of confusion came over him, but it didn't last long, as he felt the knife suddenly starting to cut through the front of his shirt. Although his abdomen were toned, he knew they were nigh insignificant compared to Darius'.

The warrior tore off the rest of Beckett's shirt, pressing his back against the wall, lips curled in a cruel snarl as he trailed the tip of the knife along the vampire's collarbone. Was this really happening? For once, Beckett felt almost in a daze. He wasn't in his comfortable homeland, where amongst the mundanity he was extraordinarily powerful, and even among the supernatural he was a legend. But here? He had no idea what he could be up against.

In the midst of his haze he felt a sudden throb within him. The idea of being powerless had been foreign to him for so long that tasting it again aroused something deep inside of him. It was refreshing, terrifying, and oh-so delicious. He dimly felt hands on his belt, the rustle of clothing, the press of hot flesh against his own -

"Look at me." A quiet growl cut through his thoughts again, and the vampire lifted his gaze to where Darius was studying him intensely, eyes clouded. He felt a hand close about his shaft, calloused and rough, a firm grip that made chills run down his body in a delicious fashion.

"It's not even worth taking the time to have you get on your knees... especially since you've probably already been fucked by a man before." Another hand had shifted behind Beckett, roughly squeezing at the cheeks of his rear, kneading them.

More of that humiliating delight flooded through Beckett, and he switched off his pride in order to enjoy the sensation fully. It was true, he'd slept with a man before, many men at that, along with all the women he'd bedded. The vampire didn't discriminate when it came to partners, especially since blood was blood.

Darius' hands shifted to Beckett's shoulders, turning him around to face the wall. Instinctively the vampire pressed his palms against the cold stone, his rear sticking out as he did so. The warrior gave a cold chuckle in response. "At least try to hide how much you get aroused by being dominated by the best warrior in all of Runeterra." Beckett gritted his teeth, feeling long, thick fingers rubbing at his entrance. Darius didn't so much as spit on his digits before roughly thrusting two fingers inside of Beckett, causing a brief burning sensation through the vampire's body. He thanked Caine for his sadomasochistic tendencies, or else the biting pain would've been just that, and not caused a twisted pleasure along with it.

"Please... don't tease me," Beckett moaned, fingers curling into fists as he leaned against the wall. "S-sir..." Hearing the plaintive cry come from his mouth was almost sickening for the powerful vampire, but at the same time…

"Sir, mm? At least your whore of a mother taught you manners around your betters." Although he couldn't see it, Beckett knew Darius was grinning in the dark. He heard the man spitting in his palm, and glanced over his shoulder to see him rubbing his shaft with his hand, already fully erect despite the fact Beckett hadn't even touched it. It was huge, the length befitting for such a large man, and it even caused Beckett to draw in a sharp breath as he imagined how it would feel inside of him.

The engorged head drooled precum against his entrance as Darius ground up against him, rolling his hips forward with lewd smoothness. It started to slowly pierce his hole, stretching him and causing a familiar tearing pain. The vampire was about to let out a cry, but a hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. He felt a warm tongue press into his ear, followed by soft words - "Don't want anyone barging in on us."

Darius pressed forward further, all the way until he was hilted inside of Beckett, every inch having sunk in with beautifully agonizing delight. The vampire wanted to squirm away, but part of him just wanted more; a hunger almost like his lust for blood, driving him to instead writhe back against the hot shaft penetrating him, letting it sink deeper inside. The man behind him gave a heated groan at that, grabbing Beckett's hips and moving his own backwards, only to slam up into him again.

The sound of flesh against flesh filled the air, the huge orbs swinging beneath Darius' cock slamming against Beckett's rear with each thrust. The man was merciless, allowing the vampire no time to adjust to the fullness, only using him with his own pleasure the clear goal in mind. And yet Beckett didn't mind - no, he found himself almost drooling with pleasure, the Beast within him almost threatening to come out.

Again and again Darius slammed into him, pounding him against the wall with such force that Beckett was grateful for the music and noisiness of the tavern crowd, so that their lewd rutting wasn't audible to anyone but themselves. The warrior suddenly curled an arm about Beckett's waist, pulling him up so that his back was pressed to Darius' front, another huge arm about the vampire's shoulders. It was almost an intimate position, like one of long-lost lovers, but perverted by the continual rough pounding he was receiving from behind - Darius didn't miss a beat.

Beckett pressed back into the broad, warm chest behind him, hearing a heavy heartbeat, feeling his own grow more rapid as he grew closer and closer to his climax.

"Beg for me," a voice suddenly growled commandingly in his ear.

"Beg?" Beckett repeated weakly, his voice trembling due to the jerking of his form.

"Beg for me to come inside of you. You're worthless, nameless, nothing but a hole for me to use," Darius whispered roughly before biting down on Beckett's neck - an ironically sweet sensation spreading through him.

Taking a breath, he replied, hoarsely -

"Claim me...come inside of me, deep inside of me, fill me... like the worthless whore I am."

He didn't even think about what he said, only that each word caused the pleasure to mount within him, more and more, until finally he reached his peak. His shaft shot out white streaks onto the wall, bouncing against his belly as he limply moved with Darius' frenzied thrusts.

And then Beckett felt the man behind him tense, a shuddered breath leaving his lips as rope after rope of white-hot seed seeped inside of him in copious amounts, even leaking into the floor below as Darius gave several more slow, strong thrusts. He was glad to have not been female - the warrior was obviously as virile as a man could be, and his strong musk filled Beckett's dazed senses.

Like a ragdoll he hung in Darius' arms, pressing back against his chest, unable to feel even shame for what he'd done. A pleasant buzzing was all he could detect, that and the warm sensation of cum dripping down his thighs.

"Darius," he purred softly, turning his head backwards, pressing his lips to the man's throat.

"I bet you taste delicious."


End file.
